Survivor Chronicles: Childhood Instinct
by VaultDwellerST111
Summary: Daryl Dixon has a tough life. He deals with a lot from his older brother Merle,and his drunk father who is never their for him unless he's harshly punishing him. But this life is only making Daryl stronger,and his instincts tell him what to do. Not a rude brother. Not a cruel father. Not a mother who isn't there. Daryl needs nobody but himself.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Wake up,little brother", Merle whispered in my ear. Startled, my eyes shot open. I hated it when my older brother did this to me. He only ever woke me up unless he had something good to tell me, which was hardly ever a _good_ thing. Good and bad were hard to distinguish with Merle. His eighteen year old mind always seemed get him into trouble.

" This better be good, Merle," I groaned, " I swear, if this is another trick about two headed deer, then-"

"Easy now, Daryl," Merle grinned. " I just wanted to tell you dear old Daddy's out drunk again, so we can basically do whatever we want."

He turned away,then glanced back. Then he laughed.

"What?" I snapped. I got tired of all the times he screwed around with me.

" You were only six when I got you out of bed for a mutant deer" He still wouldn't stop his crooked grin.

" Your point?"

"You got some pretty darn good memory for a thirteen year old" He gave one last little chuckle, then walked away, obviously planning something very stupid. Between the two of us, I was the quicker,smarter one. He was stronger than me; sometimes he'd wrestle Dad and win. But those're the days when he _isn't_ out drunk. Most people think of me as just a scrawny weakling. When I used to go to school, people called me a redneck because of how I talked and acted. Truth is,I didn't care how I acted around other people. They weren't my friends, so I didn't pay them any attention. I felt people didn't deserve to see my normal self, the one who knew how to write and talk properly. But I gave up on being "proper"

That was a while ago,when my mom and dad were still together, when I was actually scolded for _not_ using proper grammar. I never took sides. All I did was lay the blame on both of them because they couldn't get themselves together after twelve years of being married. Dad had never laid a hand on Mom, and neither had she on him. But there was one month last summer where all it was was arguing. Day after day,the yelling would continue. They always had something to say about each other, something to complain about. But my dad took it too far one day. He got drunk with his buddies at the local bar. I never did figure out how he drove home safely,as drunk as he was. Probably one of his _smart_ friends who knew better than to blow his money on alcohol. As he walked into the kitchen, he noticed dishes sitting in the sink. This set him off, and he went crazy on my mother, calling her worthless trash, villainizing her with every little flaw she had. She almost killed herself that day. Luckily I saw her sneak out of the house with the gun.I followed her until we were at the old cemetery where some of her relatives were buried. Before she even put that gun to her head, I ran out to her,screaming at her to not lay a finger on that trigger. I had collapsed on my knees,burying my face into her shoulder as she hugged me. Her tears ran down from her cheeks onto my neck,but I didn't bother move. She told me she was sorry and would work something out with a great much that did. She ended up leaving. My father made her. He claimed she would just make me and Merle weak. I remember hating them both for not trying to fix themselves before it got that far. I never took sides. No,not at all. Until she was forced to leave. Slowly, I grew distant from my father. I guess I ought to thank him; now,I'm hardened against horrible things in my life, because none of it seems as horrible as them splitting up….


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My deep reflection was cut off by a loud clanging noise and a hoarse shout. Obviously, my "father" had woken up from his drunken slumber, and it was obviously from the noise. Wood isn't exactly soundproof, and that's all my room is. Wooden walls and floors covered in more wooden paneling. I had a few rugs, but they were all worn and ratty. Perks of not being cared about by your own dad.

I walked out of my room, taking my precious time. I was in no rush to figure out why _he_ was awake. It was most likely Merle, who probably dropped a pot or bowl "accidentally". Sure enough, Dad was yelling at Merle for being a clumsy fool, and rambling how his life would be easier without " _her_ stupid kids". After a a few seconds of silence, he yelled back at Merle.

"Well?!" He shouted. "Say something boy!"

Merle had been holding back his rage. But he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Okay, _Dad_ ," he snapped. " How about you don't spend half your time getting drunk over a woman who _you_ forced to leave?! Then, you wouldn't have to spend the other half of your day sleeping!"

All hell broke loose. Dad gave a shout, then rewarded Merle's truthful defiance with a backhand.

" Mind your own business!" he roared. " She wasn't good for nothing but-"

" Stop", Merle whispered. Tears gleamed in his eyes. Not sadness nor hurt. It was anger,hatred,that drove those tears. " Just STOP! Maybe if you payed attention to her, she would've done anything for you! I don't know what happened to you. You _used_ to be a good man,husband, _father_ ," He made sure to emphasize that last word. " But you changed. Became a drunk, started to abuse your own love. Now, you're after your own children! Make a move, Pop. Make it and I hope it kills me"

I saw Dad twitch. He was going berserk inside, trying to prevent himself from letting it out. I tensed,ready for anything. One move, and I would react. One move,and my instinct would take over.


End file.
